


The Scent of Sleep

by Ninjanervana



Series: Supernatural apartment building [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, M/M, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjanervana/pseuds/Ninjanervana
Summary: It’s midnight on a weekend and you’re doing laundry in your apartment building’s laundromat. You hear the door swing open but pay it no mind until the fellow enters your peripherals and you see a very inhuman form. He is a werewolf, but is groggily just doing laundry. He hasn’t realized he’s changed.
Series: Supernatural apartment building [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979062
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	The Scent of Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate universe where werewolves and supernatural creatures are known. Also our Beacon Hills pack lives in New York. Also also might turn this into a series

Stiles bobbed his head along to his music, one earphone stuck in his ear while the other dangled against his chest. Most twenty-three year olds living in New York City would be out partying on a Saturday night. Living life, getting drunk, chasing after girls or guys or both, the city was always full of options and very little judgment. Instead, Stiles had woken up that morning and realized he was down to his very last pair of boxers. He either had to do laundry or he’d be forced to go commando in his skinny jeans. Just the thought of his sensitive bits rubbing against hard denim made him wince in imagined pain. After closing up his shop for the night, he’d loaded all his laundry into bags and hauled them down to the basement laundromat, settling in for a few hours. Finally he was putting his last load of clothes into the washer, the end of a long night approaching. 

Stiles absentmindedly noted the door opening behind him, but paid it no mind. Late nights tended to be popular times for the building’s residents to get their clothes washed. Depending on the type of day the person had had, their reactions to his greetings could vary. After learning that lesson the hard way, he preferred for others to greet him first. Footsteps dragged across the cement floor, as if the person was too exhausted to actually lift their feet off the ground to move. As they dropped their laundry bag onto the washer a few feet away from Stiles, he almost did a double take. It was an unspoken rule among all creatures, both supernatural and human, that staring was rude, but Stiles couldn’t resist the temptation. The man who walked in was slightly taller than him, wide shoulders and enough muscle to bench press one of the washers. While these features were enough to draw anyone’s first glance, it was the man’s beta shift that drew Stiles’s second look. He was almost positive the man hadn’t realized he’d shifted; honestly the man looked like he was mostly asleep as he slowly placed his clothes into the washer. Stiles was torn between mentioning it and keeping quiet to avoid any potential outbursts from the guy.

“Fuck,” the man groaned as he looked into his now empty laundry bag. 

“Uh...you good man?” Stiles asked cautiously. 

The man sighed loudly, running a clawed hand through his hair. “I forgot my detergent and softener in my apartment. And I really don’t wanna go back up and come back down.”

Stiles nodded in understanding, sliding his own detergent over to him. “You can use some of mine if you want. It’s all natural; the chemical shit they sell humans gives me rashes,” he offered. 

He looked down at the bottle, his eyes blinking tiredly before they refocused on Stiles. “Thank you,” he murmured, opening the bottle and sniffing the detergent. A pleased hum left his lips as he turned to pour some in the machine. “That smells really good. I’m Derek Hale from 4A,” he introduced himself as he handed back the bottle.

Stiles tightened the cap on the bottle, shoving it into a reusable bag. “I’m Stiles Stilinski from 3B,” he replied, shaking Derek’s hand. “I’m a Spark.”

“Werewolf,” he answered, gesturing to himself. 

“Yeah, I kinda got that already,” Stiles laughed softly. “You’re kinda wolfed out, big guy. Eyes, claws, lack of eyebrows. The whole thing.” 

Derek groaned, rubbing his hands against the side of his face to feel his side burns. “Damnit, again,” he sighed. “Goddamn annoying.” 

“Happen a lot?” 

Shaking his head, he stared intently at his clawed hands, a wrinkle forming between his brows. A few minutes passed in silence before Derek shifted back to his human form, a weary sigh leaving his lips. “It’s hard to control the shift when you’re exhausted,” he explained as he looked up at Stiles. “And it’s been a rough week.”

Stiles hummed quietly, tucking his hands into his hoodie pockets. Derek looked a lot like Stiles during his senior year midterms, too many Redbulls and not enough sleep. “I have some potions for that, if you want,” he offered. “I own a magic shop.”

“Really?” Derek replied hopefully. “You think it’ll help.”

He nodded, “It’s worth a try. Definitely won’t make the sleeplessness worse.”

“I don’t think it can get much worse at this point.”

Stiles gestured to a pile of laundry bags besides the lumpy couch in the corner. “If you’ll sit there and watch my stuff, I can run up to my apartment really quick and grab some for you.”

Derek agreed easily, shuffling over to the couch and plopping onto it. “Lemme know how much it costs. If it works, I’ll be a repeat customer,” he yawned. 

He waved his hand dismissively as he headed to the door. “Let’s see if it works first and then we can talk payment.” Stiles hurried down the hall to the elevator, managing to catch it right before it headed to the upper floors. 

Finding the right potion took longer than he would have liked; he really needed to find time to clean and organize his work station. He usually brewed at his shop, so the few things he kept in his room were a bit of a mess. After fifteen minutes, he was back in the basement, two vials held in his hand. “I’m not sure how strong it needs to be with a werewolf metabolism so I brought you...well okay then,” he trailed off quietly. 

Derek was sound asleep on the couch, his face pressed into the pile of clean laundry Stiles had tossed into a bag. Even with Stiles’s noise entrance, he hadn’t shifted from his position, taking no notice of the Spark. He was pretty sure the building could come crashing down around their ears and Derek wouldn’t wake up. 

Stiles tiptoed to one of his other laundry bags, pulling out a clean sheet and draping it over Derek. “Sleep well, dude.”


End file.
